


The Flight

by leadernovaandthemacabre



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Courting Ritual, Cunnilingus, Explicit Consent, Fingering, Intersex Characters, M/M, Omega Keith, Omega Lance, Omegaverse, Porn with Feelings, a/b/o dynamics, aggressive catcalling, fast burn, omegaverse AU, safe sex, winged au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leadernovaandthemacabre/pseuds/leadernovaandthemacabre
Summary: The wingfolk seek to find their first mates in the Hurricane Festival. Alpha wait below in nests that they spent painful weeks designing and guarding, and beta fly above vigilant for the most compatible partner.But this year is different. A pair of omega—one a sheltered romantic and another a hard-eyed stranger—are debutants that most have their eyes on. Unlike beta, omega mate for life and are rumored to be fiercely loyal to whoever catches them first. It’s a simple matter of risking the nest to have a sweet, docile mate-servant for all of eternity.…but each side of the sky has its hunters…
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 224





	The Flight

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been working on this piece on and off for a while. I'd written it to be part of a bigger world and as utter self indulgence. Mating rituals superimposed on human behaviors FASCINATE me.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The glare off the limestone and salt shores made him squint. The tropics were not kind to his eyes. He pulled down his goggles, smacked his lips against his fangs and stretched his black black wings to one side then the next. Beneath his designated perch was the sheer plunge into the white ocean. Above him was fathomless sky. The sea spray was dry.

“There’s a storm cooking,” someone had said. “The air’s humid. Setting up for something.” He’d overheard them at the roost that morning. The entire flock of debutants or those seeking second-mates had been stuffed to the point of throwing up the night before to be able to survive the hours of flying today. They had so much to say between then and now:

“The sun saps your energy. Bring water, but drink sparingly. You can’t bring too much weight with you or else you’ll just tire that much faster.”

“Don’t worry about appearances. Alpha are the only ones who need to worry about that. You worry about _practicality._ Strength and good equipment is what will bag you a good mate. If you’re too tired you’ll get caught by near anyone.”

“You need a good eye too. Griffin is selling last minute spyglasses to whoever needs them. Look for _plumage._ Alpha like to cover it up, bring attention to the nest. But the nest is temporary—if they can’t take care of themselves, how can they take care of you?”

“You’ll be targeted. Some are wily. Some rise up and snatch what they want, leaving their nests defenseless. Those are the ones that don’t put much effort in their nests. Those are the impatient ones who want a fuck, not a family. Be careful for the first half of the day.”

“But there are patient predators too. Especially the older alpha, the widows and widowers. They’ve gone through this before, they know how to wait for the right prey.”

“And how do we find the right mate?”

“You’ll know. You’ll see them, everything will align.”

Keith sighed and stretched on his silver talons. _What a load of crock._ All this romance love-at-first sight business was a distraction.

This was nothing but a showy business transaction. Keith scored the right mate, he scored the rights to property, land, wealth. He’d done his research shortly after coming to this salty, arid island. He knew who to target and who to avoid.

“Hey.”

Case in point.

The young man who swooped down the join him was admittedly easy on the eyes. His skin didn’t refract the sun like Keith’s own. He didn’t need to squint either. His eyes were sharp, like they’d be able to track the spotted dolphin along and from the reef for miles underwater. He was loud and showy. Keith predicted he wouldn’t last long.

“I just wanted to say good luck out there,” he offered his hand. His hands were gloved, as Keith’s were, but with their fingers free so that they could still feel. Gloves would come in handy when gathering sticks or fighting off unwanted advances. Feeling was necessary for finesse.

Keith stared at him for a dubious moment. Eventually he shook that hand. He said, “Likewise, but you shouldn’t be wasting your energy. We’ll have enough flying to do.”

“I’ll be fine. I know these islands like the back of my hand. No-one’s catching me unless I want them to, and no-one’s getting out of my talons either.”

Keith looked down at his gear. They were as clumsy on land as stiletto heels but were excellent for hanging onto cliff faces or branches or difficult perches. Keith’s were sharp and shiny and chafed. Lance’s were old and well repaired.

“Hand-me-downs,” Lance sighed, twirling to offer Keith a look. “But we’re not here to look good, right?”

“You don’t have to try,” Keith said honestly. He eyed Lance’s bright blue wings. “You’re a fairy.”

“Yes,” Lance beamed.

“You’re far from home.”

“A great-grandfather was part of a breeding program some generations ago. I caught the better half of those genes.” He surveyed the ocean.

Keith blinked in understanding. This kid was descended from one of those old families with old money and old beliefs on how relationships were transactions. There was truth to it, but using eugenics to control where the power and money flowed disagreed with Keith. He looked away sharply.

Lance didn’t take that as a dismissal. “And you? You’re…what, frigate?”

“Mongrel.”

Lance didn’t blink. “Just as well,” he whispered. He watched Keith’s eternal black feathers, barely glistening in the light but when they did…red. Purple. Blue. Green. He took good care of himself. He said, “You and I are the only omega in this race. Maybe the only omega in years.”

Keith was instantly wary.

“I know these islands,” Lance whispered. “I know a sunny cove that no-one will find. And they’d never see two sandbathing omega there.”

Keith gaped at him: “Are you flirting? With me? _Now?_ ”

“You barely gave me the chance to earlier. You kept avoiding me.”

Keith’s face snapped forward. He saw the vague shapes of people on the distant shore. “We’re rivals.”

Lance inched a little closer. “No we’re not.”

Keith remained stony.

Someone landed near to them, spared them a curious glance and Lance shifted forward and slipped his arm through Keith’s elbow.

“ _Hey—”_

“I’m good at evasion but I’ve seen you fly, you’re fast. And you can give a beat down, I’ve seen you.”

Keith’s eyes widened.

“I bet on you last night.”

Keith was guarded. If the right ears caught wind he could be pulled out of the race. “What do you want?”

“You scratch my back I pat yours.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Oh, seducing me didn’t work so now you’re threatening me into teaming up?”

“I’m not threatening you,” Lance spoke almost against his lips. “I’m _begging_ you. You and I are the only ones who can get our whole fucking endocrine system rewired to suit the wants of the first asshole who sinks his teeth into us. You are the _only_ ally I can rely on. Aren’t I?”

Keith spared a glance to lurking eavesdroppers. He sighed.

“Thank you.” And Lance kissed him briefly on the cheek. Before Keith could react he was gone in a flash of blue.

-

Keith’s broad wingspan caught the attention of the flock as they approached the island. From beneath he blocked out the sky in a swatch of black. From above his immaculate plumage covered the Earth.

Keith could imagine what their lingering gazes meant. No alpha in their right mind would choose a mate that would easily emasculate them. If he heard it once he heard it a thousand times. He buckled his helmet under his chin and strapped on his goggles and ignored the flash of blue gliding beside him.

Lance won gazes as Keith’s polar opposite. Feminine to the point of emaciation, his four thin dragonfly wings barely looked like it would survive the bracing Caribbean winds. They glittered like the surface of a faceted sapphire, veined by black branches that ever looked thinner and weaker.

Their eyes met and Lance smiled and saluted him. Keith blinked when he saw he had in a teeth guard. He bit his lip, feeling suddenly unprepared.

At the fore of their flock their escort Ulaz called beautifully: “Guuuuuaaaaaaarrd up!”

They each knew what that meant. Shoulders squared, talons flared, eyes peeled—the alpha were in range.

Someone shrieked and Keith saw someone spiraling. They were struck on their back by an alpha. Managed to shake them but…

Keith saw the alpha. Juvenile. Red, reptilian plumage. His intel didn’t let him know there was a dragon-descendant among them! He whistled.

Lance cocked his head to him.

“Watch your back!”

“You watch my back!” Lance whistled back merrily. “I’ll watch yours!”

Keith’s stomach spiked in irritation. He hadn’t made up his mind yet how he felt about a partner.

Ulaz, their chaperone, was beached. He kept a vigilant eye on the sky but would not interfere save for in a desperate case—a serious injury or intentional sabotage. Keith thought he imagined his old cousin’s glare on his talons.

An alpha cruised beneath him and Lance for a while. It was a display of goodwill to show their back, but Keith thought them obnoxious. They flaunted themselves but what about their nest? Had they no pride in it that they felt no remorse leaving it undefended?

Keith jumped when Lance whistled. “Move aside, you’re blocking the view!”

The alpha was insect-descended. A moth, if the fur around their neck and grotesque face-like pattern in their wings was any indication. They turned on their back, which was admittedly an impressive move. “PYT, I _am_ the view.”

Keith hissed in his mother tongue, “ _Cocky bastard.”_

Lance thought the same and he laughed. “Go away. You’re ugly.”

Crude, but effective, the alpha departed with a mean look and a spirited tongue.

“They owe you,” Keith said over the wind. “I was this close to plucking his wings out.”

Lance cackled as reply and Keith decided he liked Lance just a little bit. At the same time his heart softened, a shadow descended on them. Keith twisted, shouted, but Lance was already hit. A new alpha caught Lance and pinned his wings to his body. It was the red-winged dragon.

Keith dove without thinking. His dive missed—the young alpha spun out of the way at the right moment. But his grip on Lance softened and Lance loosened an arm enough to strike his elbow into his nose. With a yelp he was freed and he kicked off the alpha’s body to regain his bearings and his spot in Keith’s shadow.

“You crazy fuck!”

“It’s past your bedtime! Go home!”

He retreated, but the stink in his eyes implied this altercation was far from done.

Lance glided beneath Keith so close Keith could reach an arm down and touch him, if he chose. Lance’s body was effectively hidden by Keith’s silhouette from both above and below. Keith didn’t mind for now. Lance’s sharp tongue had spared him from seven brawls since the flight began.

“Ah,” Lance grasped his forearm, inaudible. “The stupid shit needs to cut his nails.”

But Keith could see the blood. He tucked into his belt for gauze and medical tape.

“No, no—I’ll be fine!”

Keith pressed it against him anyway until Lance took it. When he was done, both of his forearms were wrapped up and pink.

“Thanks,” Lance mouthed when they were side-by-side again.

Keith shook his head, and like so resumed their vigilance.

Rumor got around that the omega had teamed up and rebuffed preliminary advances by high noon. Some alpha that hadn’t yet been claimed dutifully stayed in their nests and showed off boisterously when they flew overhead.

“Who will you choose?” Lance asked from above, taking his turn to keep an eye out while Keith rested his eyes in his shadow. He was growing tired. They all were.

“The ones I wanted aren’t here,” Keith replied.

“There are so many good ones to choose from though!”

“Then you choose. I’m going home.”

Lance frowned. “You didn’t come to get dick did you.”

Keith scoffed as reply.

“So why are you here?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“Who?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He’s not here.”

Keith felt sun fall on his head and opened his eyes to track where Lance went off to. He dipped beneath him, took his hand, and encouraged him on a tangent that led away from the grounds. “What are you doing?”

“Dropping out.”

“What for? Lance—”

“Just follow!”

Keith followed. Keith followed until the island speckled black and green with people starting the rest of their lives together disappeared around the shoulder of a sea cliff. Running away from the grounds was not disallowed, but several officials were sure to be unhappy. A lot of pomp and interest was generated around their being two omega that might get claimed. It was a big, showy affair just short of exhibitionism. Keith thought it a necessary evil. It seemed like worse now that his plans fell through.

Lance led him to a seaside village. They landed heavily in the abandoned cobblestone square. Aside from fishermen sleeping under porches or hammocks and mosquitoes taking up residence in the ear of the local calf or dog, there was barely a sign of life. Buildings were either white or an affront to God. Cars lined the roads and a couple played loud domino over beer.

Keith’s hand was still in Lance’s as he was tugged up the shallow concrete steps into a wholesale. He watched Lance and the owner exchange pleasantries in rapid fire Spanish. He understood them. He concerned himself with the hen pulling at his talon laces. “Shoo.”

The owner stuffed two, three, four bags bloated with snacks and fruits and drinks and bread and tinned sausages and fish and salt and candy.

“Come,” Lance handed him too bags. “Gracías, señor.”

“Are we going to fly with these? I’m already sore.”

“We won’t go far. Come.”

 _“Take care flying,”_ the old man said. _“You see those clouds? There’s a storm.”_

Lance waved and pulled Keith into the sky again.

He said it was not far, but the rain was almost upon them by the time Lance started descending. By then the thin veneer of urbanization on the landscape was replaced by mashed fences, broken tractors and the occasional misplaced cow. The coast had gotten rougher and rougher, and then utterly choked by mangroves. Lance descended here.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you drag me off on a whim,” Keith groaned as they waded through the shallows.

“I bought our snacks, didn’t I?”

“I never asked you to.”

“I’ll take this time to remind you that you can _literally_ fly away,” Lance laughed. “So quit grumbling, I know you like me.”

“I’m curious more like,” Keith refuted. “How long do you plan on keeping me in suspense?”

“What suspense? I told you I had a private little cove, didn’t I?”

“Oh—” the mangroves parted. It was like a path opened up from sheer jungle. Keith looked at Lance’s glittering wings and distantly wondered if he was being spirited away. The sea water lapped at his calves now, he lifted the bags and foodstuff to be clear of them, and a way through the rock appeared, perfectly shaped for two young men with wings.

“What, did you ancestors carve this out centuries ago knowing that you’d come here?”

Lance guffawed, “That’d be epic! Naw, this is a volcanic island. Weird little ways like this are all over the place. I’m just lucky no-one’s found this one.”

“Well I mean it’s _literally_ miles away from civilization and hidden by overgrown weeds.”

Lance guffawed. The space opened up, and Keith marveled.

It was Lance’s private, sheltered beach. The water was shallow and fresh, alive with seaweed, sea urchins and crabs. The room was small and echoed, warped and marbled like how he might imagine the inside of a snail shell might look. There was a sky light, a hole barely bigger than a waist through which a sharp line of light careened through and lit up the space off the white sand. In its darkest corners, farthest away from the water, were shelves made of driftwood and netting.

“Ta-dah,” Lance spread his arms and wings out. “Welcome to my pocket of paradise! It’s not much, but its home. We can comfortably wait out the storm in here.”

“What if it overnights, what about high tide?”

“Weird thing about this place is that high tide doesn’t affect it.”

Keith shot him a dry look.

Lance giggled. _“What?”_

“Either you’re lying to make me stay or this place is magic.”

Lance rolled his eyes and stepped forward. “You don’t seem the type to believe in magic.”

He arched a brow. “Then you admit you’re lying.”

Lance grinned and thumped Keith’s chest. “Stay until high tide and find out.”

Keith popped the other brow. “Are you part siren?”

He fluttered his lashes, “Because I’m so desirable?”

“Because you’re going to drown me.”

Lance smacked his shoulder. Keith laughed, stumbling.

Lance took the bags from him. “C’mon. Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got hammocks, blankets, radios, candles, a couple books but they’re boring I think.”

Keith hummed and watched his collection. “So…what, we just lie here and veg until the sun goes down?”

“Keith—getting literally _hunted_ was stressful as fuck. I wanna veg out until the sun _dies._ ” Keith chucked and thumbed through a book. Lance watched his strong figure, how tightly his wings clung to his back like a frightened child. “And,” he lingered close, brushed his hand on Keith’s elbow, “I dunno, taking a break? To reset? I think we deserve that. I think you need it.”

Keith shut the book and didn’t meet Lance’s face. “You don’t know me.”

Lance bit his lip.

“Don’t pretend like you do.”

“I won’t.” He smiled to Keith’s glare. “Just…chill out with me? Or leave, that’s cool too. There’s time before the rain sets in.”

Keith watched the blue exit in thought. Leave now and curl up in his tiny, creaky borrowed bedroom trying to piece the edges of his broken plan together? Or throw that away for a moment _just a moment_ with the only person on the planet who wants nothing from him but company?

Keith reopened the book. “I wanna see if the tide comes in.”

Lance grinned, laughed in his throat, pressed a little closer. Keith watched him but did not move as Lance leaned closer, closer. He pressed his lips against Keith’s cheek again, a sincere reiteration of this morning’s gesture.

Keith watched him, cool, collected, puzzled, and Lance smiled shyly and skipped to the other corner of the tiny grotto. The first hour was spent with Keith familiarizing himself with the space and Lance organizing his things. And if their wings brushed and lingered and reached for one another, it was because the space was too small.

-

Keith thought listening to football was a waste of time but he could not deny that it was incredibly entertaining. The commentator was jumping out of his seat Keith could see it he could see it better than he could see the goal that Ramirez almost had. He burst out laughing.

Lance had laid out a plastic sheet and then three towels and then a blanket. Keith lay on his back with his wings curled under his shoulders. Lance lay on his side with his wings folded flat to his back.

Outside the storm raged.

“How did you find this place?”

“Mm,” he had been drinking. He half buried the bottle in the sand to reply, “Okay. So my family’s big, right? We’re not poor but we’re rural. Lots of land, lots of trees, lots of chickens, goats, dogs, whatever. Since I was eight my job was to walk our goats up the road to Mr. Warren’s farm. He has this cycle farm thing going on, whatever, on occasion he needed his grass cut and he got us to do it. It’s cheaper.

“Now, Mr. Warren’s _hot._ I figured that out when I was twelve and my heat came while I was looking after the goats, right? Don’t look so scared—people go into heat all the time. It’s only the city that goes batshit crazy and forces omega to stay home or take suppressants.

“Anyway, I sneak around his house when I make sure our dog has an eye on the goats, right, and when I peek through one window? Boom: there’s Mr. Warren fucking his mechanic into the floor. Mr. Warren’s married right, and the mechanic was a newlywed at the time, about eighteen or something but they’re going at it like _rabbits_. Like, I thought I’d get pregnant just _looking_ at them. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. So of course I whip out my cock and start jacking off.”

Keith covered his face in amazement. “What the fuck,” he whispered.

Lance drunk more soda around his grin. “Now I knew _shit_ about orgasms.”

“Oh no.”

“You know where the story’s going! Ha—so I knew shit about how that’s supposed to feel. I’m there with my shorts around my knees and my marina in my teeth going ham and I start feeling this weird explosion building in my body—feels good but I’m scared shitless and I wonder if this is what it feels like when God strikes me down for watching my neighbors commit adultery—”

Keith laughed, “What the fuck does this have to do with finding this cave?”

“Don’t interrupt,” and Keith cackled, “and my orgasm’s building right, I’m scared out of my mind but it feels so fucking good and Mr. Warren’s really stretching the mechanic’s hole for me to see and I just bust. A. nut. Right there. And it feels so good and I’m so scared I scream.”

He paused, but Keith was riveted, and only smiled in encouragement.

“Now I’m talking _banshee,_ scream, would put _la llorena_ to shame, I was _loud._ Probably broke a window or something—all the goats scatter.”

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly. What’s worse is Mr. Warren and his lay heard me, though they didn’t see me through the window because my knees were shot and I couldn’t stand so I was huffing and puffing against the house with my shorts around my ankles when they found me.”

“Oh no!”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Each one of us was mortified, okay? Mr. Warren doesn’t want us to tell his husband, the mechanic doesn’t want us to tell his wife, and I don’t want anyone to tell my mama so we make a deal—find the goats and forget this ever happened.”

“What—how is that a deal?”

“It was stupid, I was eleven, I took it! Anyway we pair off, me and the dog, Warren and his beau—”

“They’re going off the fuck again.”

“—wow, how do you know this story? Who told it to you?”

Keith threw his head back in a silent cackle.

“Anyway, I’m unsupervised on Mr. Warren’s lot while I round up the goats. It’s hell, takes me the majority of the day. I chase one kid down the cliffs to the tide pools but the fucking thing is so stupid it keeps running away from me. It led me here.”

Keith nodded.

“This was where I found them going at it again.”

“Oh my god!” Keith spluttered, “I thought the story was over!”

“Far from,” he laughed. “I’m tired and horny and keep coming across these two with their tongues down each other’s ass and apparently I was so metal that I said, very loudly, _I’m going home_ and the two of the scramble to stop me.”

Keith huffed. Lance had a smart tongue since then!

“They wanted to bribe me into silence. What did an eleven year old want? Toys? Shoes? Money? Anyway, I asked for the cove. Done, they said. While Mr. Warren lived here he put up fences that isolated the cove, and that’s how I scored the place.”

“ _When_ he lived here?”

“Oh, his husband found out about him shortly after that. The divorce ruined him he had to sell most of his land. It belongs to some bigshot cattle rancher now, he keeps cows on the estate. Doesn’t know I’m here though and I’d like it to stay that way.”

“So technically we’re on private property.”

“Technically. But I haven’t been caught for ten years, what’s two days more?”

“Famous last words,” Keith ate a handful of plantain chips. Lance chuckled. “So this is your heat cave?”

“Hm?”

“It’s where you come to wait out your heats?”

Lance smiled shy and lopsided. “You’ve seen right through me. But it’s more than that. It’s the one place that’s _mine._ Probably selfish, I should probably tell my sister about it or something, but I like having this place all to myself.”

“Why would you feel guilty for not telling your sister?”

“We tell each other everything.”

Keith didn’t have siblings. He didn’t understand. He thought siblings kept everything from each other. He stayed quiet.

“Alright, I told you my embarrassing story, what’s yours?”

“Embarrassing story?”

“Or not embarrassing,” and he fell on his belly and pillowed his head on his crossed arms. “Like…why are you here? You’re not from around here, although your Spanish kinda, sounds like you are, you diaspora? Why participate in our mating flight? They don’t have those where you’re from?”

Keith shrugged. “It’s not an interesting story.”

Lance’s eyes lit up hungrily. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He shrugged. “My mother was from these islands. She left and came back pregnant. When I was three my dad asked to see me and my mom sent me to him. Then he got me registered as an American citizen and I never saw my mother again.”

“What the fuck, you dad _kidnapped_ you?”

Keith frowned. “It’s complicated? Apparently they got into a fight over my custody. Mom wanted to live here but my dad wanted to stay in America. According to his law he had custody of me. But my mom wanted to keep me on the archipelago where that law didn’t apply. Long story short, when I turned eighteen I left my dad to look for her.” He frowned.

Lance waited patiently, solemnly.

“She apparently died in childbirth. I have a little sister, her name is Acxa. I like her, she likes me fine but my maternal family doesn’t like me around. My mom had a lot of investments in local businesses and land and my sister’s rich—she’ll get it all when she turns eighteen—and my family thinks that I’ll try to take advantage of her inheritance by getting close to her. They’re not…they don’t kick me out, family is family, but they are wary. A big thing is why I’m so old but I’m not married yet, that because I’m not tied down I’d happily take her money and bounce.”

“Me too, kinda. My folks insisted I find a mate to grow up a little.”

Keith scoffed. “Is that because you’re omega?”

“No, it’s because I seduced a plantation owner’s omega daughter and she’s been lovesick over me for weeks. If I get married to an alpha it might break her heart and snap her back into sobriety.”

Keith did a double take.

“Don’t look at me like that. Allura’s _gorgeous._ If the laws allowed it I’d bond to her in a heartbeat. It’s considered dangerous though. Some old fogies think that two omega can’t be in a committed relationship, and that it’s a perversion of their maternal instinct.”

Keith snorted out a laugh.

“Right?” he sighed. “Still, the lengths that you’re going to to stay on good terms with your family? I’m sorry, but that’s uncool. Also there are some faults in that plan, I have notes.”

Keith laughed, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Their love should be unconditional.”

“It…it is,” Keith struggled. “It’s just…they don’t _know_ me. I’m their family but I’m also a stranger. What if America and my dad fucked me up? I already don’t share in their morals and values. What if something that I think is perfectly fine will hurt Acxa?”

“Shut up,” Lance laughed. “The very fact that you’re willing to give up your autonomy just to preserve a relationship with your sister is evidence enough. You don’t owe them shit.”

“I fucking know that,” Keith hissed. “But…how else am I going to get them to…to…”

“Love you?”

“ _Trust_ me.”

Lance shrugged. “I just met you and I trust you. Your folks are just cruel.”

Keith glared. “I think it’s that you’re not wary enough.”

“Maybe,” and Lance extended a hand to run on the edge of the nearest feather. Keith didn’t feel the touch. “But I also have a good instinct about these things. You love your sister. You love your mother and you love your dad. I just met you and I can see that. You don’t have enough people in your corner.”

Keith’s look was hard. He whispered, “Don’t pretend to know me, Lance.”

“I won’t, but you won’t stop me from trying to get to know you either.” He grinned abruptly. “I want to be your friend.”

Keith looked vulnerable for a heartbeat. He returned his gaze to the grotto ceiling.

Lance asked, “By the way, who was the alpha that you wanted to get boned by?”

“Oh,” Keith faced him. “One of the Shirogane twins. Either Jiro or Sven.”

“Oh! Good taste!” Lance cackled. “They’re _hot._ And they’re decent people too. Fair with their employees.”

“Yeah.”

“Rumor has it they can only get hard for each other though.”

“ _Ew!_ Lance—!”

“I’m just saying, I dunno how true that is—but _apparently_ the rumor goes that their older brother came back from visiting their grandfather in either Brazil or Japan, I forget which one, and found them trading virginities in the barn in their church clothes. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall…”

“Gross, Lance.”

Lance grinned. “They were _supposed_ to be at the grounds today to buy them a hubby each. You didn’t see them?”

Keith shook his head.

“Me neither. Maybe they eloped.”

 _“Ugh._ What is with this place and its sex scandals?”

“It’s a small island, we get blackouts every evening and the only thing anyone is ever in want of at any time is a cold beer. There’s not much to do in paradise except get in trouble.”

“Like you and the plantation owner’s daughter.”

“I regret nothing!” Lance laughed. “If I’m pregnant with her babies right now, I won’t complain.”

Keith watched him. “You’re pregnant?”

“Mmm, shouldn’t be,” Lance replied nonchalantly. “It’s been weeks. And I had my period since then so.”

“You don’t sound scared.”

“About childbirth? Oh,” he got up to his elbows and remembered Keith’s mother. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make light of it. It’s just…it’s nothing to be scared of. It’s a part of life. Some mothers will tell you it’s glorious and shit—not my mama, she said it point blank, it’s just a thing.” He looked at Keith’s bare toes. “And anyway if I do get knocked up I’ll have my family to help me raise them. It’ll just be…another thing to do in life.”

“Wouldn’t they get in the way of things you’d want to do?”

“Like that?”

Keith didn’t know how to reply. “Don’t you…have aspirations?”

Lance chucked. “You sound like my oldest sister. Kept telling our mama she had dreams and aspirations. That’s why she left the island. Didn’t get a mate, didn’t get a kid.”

Keith waited for an answer.

“And you Keith? You have _aspirations?”_

Keith was surprised by the guarded look in Lance’s eyes, even as he smiled. Curious. “Yes,” he sighed. “I…I want to work in airships.”

Lance chuckled. “What?”

“When I was fifteen I got a summer job working in a hangar. And I got to work on airships. Patching them up, dismantling them to clean, and I really liked working in the engine room. At the time my wings were small enough I could get into tight spaces.” He smiled. “I want to travel the world in an airship I made from the bottom up, one day.”

Lance breathed, “That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay okay okay.” Lance squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t laugh?”

“Promise.”

“I…wanted to be a travelling musician.”

Keith chuckled. “What?”

“I told you not to laugh!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I didn’t expect it. Why?”

“Travelling, meeting people, every day is an _adventure,_ a chance to get in and out of trouble, make friends, develop the art, find kindred spirits, understand _humanity._ That’s…yeah. That was my dream.” He sulked. “Then mama said I’m better off bagging a mate because at least I’d be fed if I get a mate.”

Keith burst out laughing.

Lance smacked his hip with a discarded towel. “Asshole!” he flicked a banana chip against his nose. “I told you not to laugh!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…it’s wonderful. I like it.”

Lance sulked, but blushed.

“Are you any good?”

“At?”

“Music. What do you play?”

Lance skinned his teeth, scrambled to his feet and disappeared in a corner of the grotto. He reappeared with a guitar black from age and pulled at strings that looked either too supple or too brittle. But when Lance made a few chords? The sound was _rich. Old._ It was an instrument that absorbed the passage of time. It set Keith’s hair on end.

“Alright,” Lance hummed. “I’ll play…one of my favourites. It’s called _Un Dia de Noviembre_ by Leo Brower.”

Keith sat up, anticipating a bright tune.

It was melancholic. It sagged the bones. Keith felt his blood pressure drop at once. And worse? Abruptly he could believe that Allura was heartsick. Lance’s face was a mask of sincerity. His profile was serious, downturned, his lips parted as he threw himself into—

Something bright. The song picked up, sweet, dancing…brief. It ended where it began, slow, artful, sad. Maybe oddly hopeful.

Lance sighed when he was human again. His fingers traced the edge of the guitar. Then he smiled at Keith, returned to himself. “How’d you like it?”

“You’re good,” Keith answered, wide-eyed. “I didn’t expect you to be good.”

Lance tilted his head. “I’ll pretend to be flattered.”

“I couldn’t tell that you were that skilled just from looking at you,” Keith argued.

“You didn’t know that beauty begets beauty?”

Keith rolled his eyes.

“You wanna try?”

“No, I’ve no talent. And that thing looks like it’ll fall apart in my hands.”

“Ha. Old blue here can take whatever you dish out.”

“Blue? You named your guitar Blue?”

“It has flecks of blue paint on it. It was blue, once. Before I got it.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Picked it off the beach when I was loitering one day.”

Keith chuckled. “I think I’ll stick with you serenading me.”

Lance smiled, played one song and then the other.

Their talon footwear were placed in a straw basket on one of the highest shelves. Additional foodstuff was tucked away in a hammock tied high to the ceiling. There was a hotplate here, and a small red canister with gas attached. This was more than a hideaway, it was a home.

Lance recalled stories of pretending he was alone, of hunting fish in the shallows and cleaning and gutting and cooking them. “The first few times I got sick,” he laughed. “But mama let me into the kitchen since then and now I’m way better. I’m lazy though, hence the corned beef. We can boil up some rice and mix it together for a nice hot meal?”

They did so, ate from calabashes, and when the cave got dark between the storm and the setting sun, Lance produced a kerosene lamp. It was hours of doing nothing. Of not thinking. Of not worrying. Of burying toes in the cold sand and wrapping up in blankets and making a game of checkers out of shells and bottle caps. It made Keith think that he was willing to like Lance. He asked, “Hey, what are you gonna do after this?”

“Mm, maybe eat a little more—god I’m gonna get fat—and sleep.”

“No I mean…you bailed on the festival. Won’t your family be annoyed?”

“Annoyed, sure. But it’s whatever. There’s always next year.”

“What about your dream to be a wandering musician?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I…” Keith shifted a shell. “I…I’m gonna go back, after this. I’ve been thinking. I wanna go back to America. Figure out how to build airships. Maybe I’ll go to Europe, they have huge industries there. And. And, maybe you’d like to come with me?”

Lance smiled, “Aw. Are you asking me to elope with you, Keithy?”

Keith met his eyes. “Maybe.”

Lance stared. “What?”

“Elope is a _stretch,_ yeah but. I like you.” He blushed. “I want to be your friend. And I’d love to see you on a stage one day.”

Lance’s eyes fell to the game he was losing.

Keith felt hollow. “You’re going to say no.”

“I’m not like you, Keith. I have a family here. I have strong ties to my family here.”

“But will you be _happy?_ Are you really okay to spend the rest of the marriage that you only kinda wanted thinking _what if?”_

Lance scowled. “Maybe I want to.”

“No you don’t.”

He scoffed loud and hard. “Who’s pretending to know who, now?”

“That’s different.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Because you told me. You told me you were only at those grounds because your family wants you to grow up.” Lance stared at him. “ _You_ said it.”

Lance dusted his dry feet.

Keith leaned up on his elbow, an apology was raw on his tongue, “Look, I was just—”

“I know,” Lance’s voice held no emotion. He turned to Keith, sitting up, holding his knees, then leaned over him and pressed his mouth against his cheek. “Thank you.”

Keith grasped his wrist. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“What?”

“Kissing me.”

Lance’s eyes flickered between his. He didn’t answer.

Keith let him go. “Forget it. Forget I said any of this. How could I even think of bringing you away from paradise?”

“Keith…I mean, I’ve lived my whole _life_ here. You can’t expect me to jump up and change.”

“Why not? Your family’s made that decision for you.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s moving to a whole different country! Maybe you’re okay with it being from two worlds but I’m not like you! I can’t…function in a place I don’t understand!”

“Okay,” Keith rubbed his shoulder. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Lance shook his head. “But that’s just it, isn’t it? My life, my world is changing, whether by my hand or my family’s. There’s no going back to who I was yesterday.”

Keith said nothing.

“I kiss you…because I know you’ll be gone when I wake up.” He scoffed. “Sorry. It’s just…you’re so strong. Heroic, a fantastic flier, independent—you’re a dream. I touch you because I know you’ll disappear like one.”

Keith blinked. “Is that…what, is that _awe?_ Lance, I’m the last person you’d want to look up to. I beat up people for money, I-I-I barely live paycheck to paycheck. I’m in a rut.”

“You have dreams about building airships and my highest aspiration is strumming a guitar on the highway.”

“Who _cares?_ That’s _your dream._ That’s what _you want._ No-one can take that from you. And me? I stopped thinking about what I wanted until I met _you._ I…I feel like you freed me from some stupid thought in my head and I just want to…repay you somehow.”

Lance smiled. Something was sad about it. “In that case, do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Will you…make love to me? Please?”

“…why?”

“So that I won’t forget you.”

“…Lance…”

“Sh. Just…if no, then I’ll pick up the guitar and sing until I’m hoarse and we can play more checkers and truth or dare.” Keith exhaled a laugh. “If yes…” and he placed his hand on Keith’s hand, and slipped it up and up and up, under his shirt, hugging his bicep, his mouth parted and his eyes open.

Keith watched him. His eyes did not flicker. He was conflicted.

Lance smiled. “Okay.” He put space between them and reached for the guitar. A hand on his hip belayed him. “Hm?”

“Wait.”

Lance watched him, how he got to his knees and pulled his shirt free at the neck—it was functionally a halter top to accommodate his wings—and Lance drank in his figure with wide, appreciative eyes. Then Keith stretched out his wings and _oh my._ It was like being embraced. Keith hadn’t touched him yet but all Lance could see, smell and understand was Keith and the warmth clinging to his feathers.

Keith reached for Lance’s hand and encouraged him to touch the soft down. They both blushed, feeling vulnerable and intimate. Keith’s wings closed around Lance as he pressed closer, running his fingers through feathers, his own wings intermittently buzzing in excitement.

Keith hung his head and exhaled, getting more and more aroused. When Lance was close enough, he looped his arms around his waist.

Lance kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Keith held the back of his neck and kissed his mouth. Lance melted into it with abundant hunger. He was sweet how he moved according to Keith, and firm in how he looped his arms around his neck. Keith’s wings held fast and cocooned them into their own little world.

They were tangled so flush that it was easy to slide their erections together. Course denim and canvas was all that divided them. Keith parted, “Wait wait wait wait.”

“Mm? What.”

“I…how are we…”

“I’d like you to top,” Lance licked his lips.

Lance thought he saw Keith go cross-eyed just as he closed his eyes. “I don’t. Have a condom.”

“Um, I do,” Lance turned, scanning the selves in the light of the kerosene lamp. He squinted. “Somewhere.”

“Why am I not surprised you have condoms in here?”

“Ha. I had plans to bring Allura here once. Never got that far. Her dad keeps her on the land. Makes her learn inside day in and day out. We only ever managed a quickie in her bathroom.”

Keith kneeled on the blankets and smiled broadly at Lance’s figure flitting back and forth in pursuit. “Romantic.”

Lance chortled. “Whatever. Ah, here it is. Ooh, I had some olive oil set aside too.”

Keith reached for him. Lance turned and, abruptly, was shy, moving enthusiastically but very conscious about what they were about to do.

Keith beckoned hm forward and hoped to calm his spinning thoughts with a kiss. Lance’s shoulders fell a little, and Keith ran his hands up his bare cold forearms. His shoulders were nude too, their shape fetching and fitting comfortably in Keith’s palms. As an afterthought he hastily tugged off his gloves and cupped Lance’s body close again.

His movement kickstarted a disrobing frenzy. Lance tugged at his shirt and his hair went wild and Keith grinned at him and his blush and touched his chest. His skin was grey blue in the gloom of the storm.

“What do you like?”

Keith hummed in question while he acclimated himself to the contours of Lance’s nude torso.

“Like if I wanted to go down on you,” their mouths were barely apart for Lance to finish his question. “What do you like?”

“Do you want to? I really just wanted to touch you some more. And finger you.”

Lance’s eyes widened and nodded. He stood to disrobe, and Keith got on his knees to kiss Lance’s belly.

“Lie down.”

Lance lie down. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

Keith flicked his forehead.

“Ow.”

“Hips up.”

Lance was shy again but he grinned and abided. He planted the soles of his feet on the unsteady ground and lifted his hips high enough for Keith to slide his panties off. The scent of his arousal, staunched by the linen, bloomed freely in the quiet. Keith inhaled deeply.

Lance covered his face and groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I stink, right? Lemmie wash up and—”

“Stay,” Keith pressed him down. “No, you don’t stink.”

Lance was embarrassed. He rolled his eyes.

“You don’t. You…pussy has a smell, that’s true. But I like yours.”

“You like the smell of my pussy.”

Keith frowned and started to feel embarrassed too. “Is that weird?”

“A little,” but he lay down and his limbs fell in casual seductive shapes. He pretended to be confident until Keith kissed the top of his knee, and the side of his knee, and the flat of his thigh, and the inside of his thigh…

His hips bucked at the sudden press of nose and lips to his pubic hair. “Are you,” he hiccuped, “you don’t have to if—”

“Shut up, Lance.” He descended.

Lance squeaked. His wings trapped beneath him flickered, spasmed really, and kicked up what little sand had shifted onto their blankets. It felt better than he imagined. If the world was a negative picture, then the space that Keith’s tongue reached was the only spot of colour in the world, a searing point of focus which was the only tether keeping him earthbound. It was weird, new, outlandish, it was soft and warm and clear—and then Keith’s tongue _moved._

Lance gasped again. He abandoned bravado. He forgot why he was trying to look all mature and collected before. His body had seized up in quiet compliance to Keith, and Lance felt like he couldn’t refuse if he tried.

It was a lot of poetic nonsense running through his head.

Keith was having as fun a time too. It was easy to fall into and follow Lance’s contours. His slick paved an easy path for Keith to run his tongue through from the base of his aching cock to his shallow entrance. Keith suckled on the head for a moment before he swallowed his prick entirely, tongue thrashing around the subtle corona, and two fingers edging into his folds.

Lance’s back flexed. His soles were earthbound again and he squealed with one hand in Keith’s hair. He cursed him. He praised him.

Keith drank in the view of his convulsing thighs, tense belly, quaking breasts and screwed up face. He sucked harder and then harder and took pleasure in how Lance shrieked and stayed.

Keith withdrew. He laughed at the betrayed look Lance gave him.

“Why did you stop?”

“I want you to come on my cock.”

“I’ll come on your cock promise just please _please_ finish me now!”

“Ha. Was I that good?”

“Yes! Yes—you’ve ruined me, I have seen the gates of heaven, I have experienced the forbidden fruit, I have seen the hills of Valhalla and danced among their maidens just please please get me off with your tongue or I’m going to cry.”

Lance might have seen the pleased flush on Keith’s cheeks had he not dipped down again and drew his tongue in a wide, sloppy swath up Lance’s loins.

_“Ah!”_

Tears sprung to his eyes as Keith continued his magic. His orgasm came gradually and it was colossal and foreboding. He was terrified until the very moment it struck, and a sound was punched out of him that he didn’t recall ever making. His wings beneath him buzzed and flailed trying to disperse the excess energy. Despite their best efforts it took a moment for Lance to return to Earth and then a touch longer for him to remember he was tearing Keith’s hair out by the root.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Keith sat up and flashed a cocky smile of his own. “It’s hella flattering.”

“Pfft,” Lance replied, and they laughed.

Lance was disoriented and lethargic. Keith didn’t mind on the condition he had access to Lance’s thighs, to which his response was an effusive and resounding _duh._ They lay on their sides knotted up in one another, Keith’s wings blanketing them and Lance’s thighs warming Keith’s cock.

Keith rocked slowly and huffed into Lance’s neck. Lance was mostly unresponsive but arched his butt backwards every now and again that doubled the sensation of raw flesh on raw flesh. Keith whimpered. It was his turn to be desperate.

Threat of a fuck aside though, it felt good to wrap himself around Lance. Lance was a warm tough body that reveled in his touch. When Keith hesitated to curl his arm around Lance’s waist, Lance did it for him. When he hesitated to rock in what had begun as a self-consoling gesture, Lance got a healthy grab of his ass and yanked. He licked the back of Lance’s neck because Lance laughed and complained, because Lance wanted him here. It felt so good to be wanted.

“Hey,” he was suddenly more awake and began pushing him. “On your back.”

Keith rolled and swallowed his whine. He felt so cold suddenly without the extra skin to cuddle. His eyes near popped out of his head when Lance sat up and made to sit in his lap. Lance was facing away from him.

“I’ve actually never done this position before,” Lance looked over his shoulder. The sharp of his beak nose and chin and saucy eyes were framed by the leftover light from the storm. “You mind?”

He was smitten. He shook his head.

Lance grinned, arched his back, spread his knees, caught the base of Keith’s drooling cock—

“Ah, wait. Condom.”

“Oh. Yeah. Forgot.”

“Here.”

“Hm.”

—and then he sat on it.

Keith whined and grabbed Lance’s hips. _“Fuck!”_

Lance laughed. He braced on Keith’s knees and experimented with dropping and lifting his body. Smack and squelch went their loins and it was obscene, helped along by the acoustics of their tiny little cove and the restless water.

Lance picked up a steady beat and Keith held on for dear life red faced and panting _“oh oh oh”_ in praise. Lance grunted and his wings unfurled.

Keith was breathless. In the dim light Lance’s dragonfly wings seemed to catch every photon the world was missing. Each facet was a new colour like transparent sea glass. They stayed taut and bounced as Lance bounced, fretted as their voices reached a new crescendo.

“Lance—!” He reached for him and pulled him back.

_“Woah!”_

Lance crashed against Keith’s chest. His wings tickled. “What are you— _oh!”_

Keith hadn’t been dislodged. Now with one arm wrapped around his torso and the other under his knee he planted his feet in the earth and fucked up at his leisure. Lance and his wings sang in harmony.

“It’s hot,” Keith grunted incomprehensibly. Their skins were hot yes, and growing sticky from their sweat and slick—Keith was leaking with abandon into the blankets—but he was referring to his own genitalia. They were each aflame with need. If only there was a way to fuck Lance and be fucked by him at the same time! If only this wasn’t their last game.

Lance’s wings buzzed in a way Keith had come to learn preceded his coming. He spread his own wings to brace against the ground. He nibbled on Lance’s ear and jerked his clit. Lance came with an aborted shriek and Keith fucked him through it going wild the way his pussy _twisted—_

When they woke up it was the night preceding morning. Keith felt groggy and sore and satisfied. When he blinked awake Lance was there and Lance grinned at him and declared, “We stink.”

Keith wrinkled his nose.

Lance laughed.

Keith pulled Lance in for a hug and Lance went. “Mm,” he purred. “You feel good.”

Keith nodded. Lance fit well in his arms. They were the same height, basically the same size, and it struck him as odd because convention had told him that couples only fit together when one was very big and the other very small. Lance fit in his nooks and crannies like water in the valley. He didn’t know how to explain how right it felt to have Lance here as his friend and equal, so he brushed away his bangs and kissed him tenderly instead.

Lance returned the kiss in kind. It remained chaste, but was not casual.

“Lance?”

“Hm?”

“Come with me.”

Lance sighed.

“You’re too good for this place.”

“You’re just saying that because you want access to a good lay.”

Keith shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a part of it.”

“Asshole!” Lance laughed and decked him in the shoulder.

Keith liked the levity. He accidentally dissolved it when he touched Lance’s jaw, and Lance caught his hand to kiss his palm. Keith murmured, “I like you, and I don’t want to see you locked down in a marriage because other people say so. You’re worth more than that.”

“Marriage isn’t—”

“I know it isn’t. I know it doesn’t have to be some loveless contract of obligation and propriety and whatever the fuck else. But I don’t want to risk it happening to you. I like you.”

Lance’s smile was uncharacteristically genuine and fond. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to stay here with me?”

Keith sighed.

“Yeah. Thought so.” He kissed him. “How ‘bout…you let me make love to you until sunset—or until we run out of condoms, whichever comes first—and then when you go off and become one of the worlds best aerial engineers you send me a postcard?”

Keith frowned. “I…I really can’t convince you?”

“You really like me that much?”

“I don’t…get attracted to people easily.”

Lance’s smile was sad. It broke Keith’s heart a little. They touched one another and kissed, and then in three days while their hickies were still wet and warm, Keith got on a northbound boat and Lance circled it until he was tired.

-

Lance had been disowned for six weeks before his mother arrived at his new doorstep with instructions coated in a veneer of pleading.

“He’s a good boy,” his mother had said. “Honest, hardworking, and his family is wealthy. He can be good for you. And he’s shown interest!”

“Why do you want me to get married so much? Can’t you be happy for who I am now?”

“I don’t want you to be _lonely,_ my heart.”

“I’m _not._ I’m lonely when you don’t _listen to me!”_

He was disowned for another six weeks.

He grew tired of waiting for his mother and aunties to see reason and took a spontaneous hop to the capital. _It’s probably nothing like the cities you’ve seen,_ he wrote to Keith from his shoddy apartment on his second humid night, _but it’s louder and bigger and more vibrant than anywhere I’ve ever been. Every Thursday young and old people take up their instruments and partners and dance and play in a street cordoned off by cars. It’s hard to explain the energy that cuts through the air on those nights._

Lance was eventually adopted into one of those bands that have a high turnover of members. He got good, he got great, he lived hand to mouth, and he had a string of lovers.

_I miss your arms the most though. Six months, but the memory of your wings embracing me is what sends me to sleep at night._

There was a tourist that took up a table at one of his stomping grounds recently. The foreigner had that thin white skin and oddness to his aura that screamed he was from a different series of social cues. He was big—alpha—but sweet and awkward, and despite Lance’s best efforts would not follow him to bed.

_Instead we’ve become friends. He blushes when I kiss him, like you did. Would you still?_

_What are you doing?_

“Writing a letter to your family?”

Lance looked up and grinned. Takashi was still pink from wandering around in the sun, and still wore those awful touristy shirts with the banana leaf motif, but he looked good and he looked happy. Lance pushed his own drink toward him and Takashi took a grateful sip.

“No, a friend I met a while ago. I got a package from him recently and I hope he’ll get this if I send it to the return address.”

“What did he send you?”

Lance grinned and produced an acoustic guitar from the case at his feet. “Isn’t she gorgeous?!”

“Stunning,” Takashi abided. He was wide-eyed. “Your friend must care for your very much. That’s no cheap trinket.”

“Hm.”

“Will you play for me?”

“Mm, want a serenade? Only my _lovers_ get a serenade.”

Takashi blushed and spluttered.

Lance laughed and let him alone. “Sure. Lemmie just finish this…” and he penned in a few more lines, a few more salacious wishes, a few more effusive thanks, and Takashi escorted him to the post office.

“Here’s to hoping he gets it.”

Takashi asked him if he knew any songs about good tiding or blessings or the like, Lance said he knew a few, and he played for him and the small audience he accrued in folk cooling their ankles off in the cobblestone square fountain.

Then the next week Lance got a postcard.


End file.
